


The Final Countdown

by SlothSpaghetti



Series: Sleepless In Stark Towers [19]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Caring Relationship, Dom/sub, Domspace, Established Relationship, F/M, Sex Discussion, Subspace, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Warm Fuzzy Feelings, dd/lg undertones, hints of bad parenting, maybe overtones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:56:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28107396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlothSpaghetti/pseuds/SlothSpaghetti
Summary: You make it through finals, Tony goes to Cali and comes home to a bit of a mess.
Relationships: Tony Stark/OFC, Tony Stark/Reader
Series: Sleepless In Stark Towers [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965925
Comments: 16
Kudos: 70





	1. Your PoV

**Author's Note:**

> if you don't like the way I'm taking this series, well, I'm not sorry. this is my dumpster fire.

Tony's arms wrapped around me in the crowded airport. Soft flannel fabric that smelled like motor oil and something so deliciously spicy brushed against my nose. It goes straight to my head. A deep sigh escaped my lips and can feel my whole body sag and go a bit softer, like how my mom acts after that first drag of her cigarette after a long day. This warm feeling invaded every part of my senses, made me feel like I was moving through molasses. The people faded away into a blurry of colors as tears came to my eyes.

Warm hands cup my face. Thumbs brushed away the wetness on my cheeks. A smile as soft as I felt graced Tony’s features. His lips fell onto mine like it was the most natural thing in the world. The ball cap he wore today nudged against my glasses and I smiled into the kiss.

I was home. 

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

“I WANNA DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.”

First, I get my period for the first time since getting the implant and my uterus was literally trying to Alien-style burst from my body. I couldn’t even begin to handle that shit. Every part of my body just burned and ached, centered right at my crotch. No amount of hot baths and drugs was fixing that problem. I couldn’t move without wincing, let alone think about studying for finals. 

That brings me to my second point, what kind of monster tells Calculus 101 students there would be no cheat sheet notecard for the final? I felt like I was barely managing as it was and then he just decided to drop that bomb on us two classes before the test. My brain couldn’t even comprehend the idea of studying for the other finals I have. I was spiraling into a mess of letters, numbers, and equations that made no fucking sense. 

“Dying is forbidden,” Tony moved away from the stove to rub my shoulders. 

I leaned back into the barstool and tried to make puppy dog eyes at him. Dying would be a great alternative to this nightmare. 

“C’mon, I slaved over a stove for like an hour, let’s eat.”

I didn't want to eat. I felt bloated and disgusting, but I couldn't say no. Not just because it would be rude, but because well it was my daddy taking care of me. Tony had been extremely… diligent since I got back. There was always a hot dinner and nutritious breakfast waiting for me when I stayed over now. In the evening, we'd work together in the lab until we were done on a project or too sleep deprived to continue. Then Tony would drag me up to the penthouse, kissing me softly while stripping me down so we could shower together. He would scrub and wash away the paint and pollution of the day. 

Then he'd shampoo my hair. His fingers lathered up that magic soap that smelled like heaven, massaging and scratching on my scalp. He was always gentle, never tugging at the knots, and never getting soap near my eyes. He slathered on the conditioner before setting my pudding soft limbs on the tiled bench. If the hair washing hadn't gotten me all floating and warm, watching my daddy scrub and wash away the day's stress certainly finished it off. There was almost never anything sexual about it, usually rushed while I slumped against the wall. His hands worked the soap around his thighs, his torso, the arc reactor. The blue glow reflected off the suds, making the moment even more magical. The intimacy of the action, the comfort he had with me, that made me feel special and loved. That felt like real magic. 

The world would get all misty. A soft fog settled over my mind garden, merging colors and ideas for projects with equations, dates, and societally stereotypes. My everything just relaxed.

Tony then helped me put on a set of soft flannel PJ's, each pair some kind wintery design. I noticed a slight increase in different types of clothes for me in the closet, in colors I didn't normally wear. All of them were soft, comforting, and faintly smelled of Daddy™. I couldn't help but stare at them when my clothes were laid out for me.

The clothes were expertly mixed with things I normally wore to class. For example, tonight my daddy picked out something that was 50/50 us. A pair of thick fleece leggings and a structured, expertly designed oversized Wolf of Wall Street vibe button-down dress were matched together, and a new sexy panty set I would never have bought myself was paired with my soft, fuzzy boot socks. All in all, Tony would somehow know exactly what I need to feel good and pretty and worthy.

I knew, that he knew, that I kinda knew what he was doing. We had talked my subspace, that floaty place my mind tries to travel up to while Tony took me apart. We had talked about what I needed or wanted when I was there. He explained his domspace to me, his own headspace that he gets into sometimes where he feels primal, almost godlike as my daddy. We both discussed how good it felt in those places, even without the sex.

And we had talked about the sex part of our relationship a lot when I got back, but consent and trust were really what it was about. It ended with my reassuring Tony that I was very much the one of us deciding we'd be in this kinda relationship, but that he also had a choice. Eventually, it broke further down to me just smooshing his face between my hands and telling him I trusted him with my life. He was my daddy, and Daddy knew best. 

"C'mon, let's get you to bed sleepy baby."

"Can I read my art history notes in bed?"

There was so much more to study, so many dates and topics I didn't know yet. I was trying to fight my fuzzy warm headspace. Only two more days of tests. All my papers were finished, projects and modules were wrapped up, and all that remained were my art history and calculus hell tests. I trusted myself enough with Art History assuming that annoying senior kept to himself. And honestly, I'd been so stressed about math nonsense I didn't even consider him a threat to my sanity anymore. 

"No work in bed," Tony reminded me, arm around my shoulder. "Do you really need to study? It's like three in the morning already."

"Just one more hour, Daddy, please," I yawned.

"JARVIS, when did I last get a good night message for my girl?"

"Thursday night, Sir."

"And you were with me all weekend, so that means you haven't slept for at least 24 hours," he guided us to the bed. "And a good night's sleep will be good for your test."

He was right, sleep would do me some good. I knew that, but it didn't make me stop feeling guilty for not studying enough. I didn't know every word cover to cover yet, therefore it wasn't enough. And it wasn't just me who needed to sleep. Tony had to fly out to California tomorrow for some kind of end of year presentations. He needed to be rested and present for the long day of meetings and dealing with people. Tonight wasn't a night to fight the rules. 

"Daddy," I yawned again, snuggling into the soft sheets, "do-do you mind if…"

An old habit, a coping mechanism from when I was younger, had surfaced again since being back home. Turns out if it was someone else's thumb in my mouth the horrible taste memories of vapo rub didn't creep up. Tony said it didn't bother him, after the first time he woke up with his finger in my mouth. Told me it made him feel good, knowing even in my sleep I sought him out for comfort. I still felt weird about not asking, checking in to make sure he was still okay. I was sure once finals were over, I'd get over it again.

Tony pulled my head onto his chest and gave me his hand. While I held on to it for just a moment, massaging the muscle and tendons, trying to give him any amount of comfort I could, he kissed the top of my head.

"C'mon pretty baby, time for sleep."


	2. Tony's PoV

I was counting down the minutes until you were done with your calc final. Three whole weeks of no classes. Three whole weeks of you staying here. Three whole weeks of doing… stuff. Honestly, I didn’t know what we’d do. I was too focused on the fact that after the hellish time you’ve been having since your last break, you’ll finally be able to just do whatever you wanted. No pressures, just relaxation. 

“Mr. Stark, what do you think?”

“I think…” I glanced over the plans for the new Paris HQ. “They look fine, average.”

“Average, sir?” 

“I think what Mr. Stark is trying to say-”

“Pep, what I’m trying to say is they look average. It’s a perfectly acceptable office block, but it isn’t a Tour Stark.”

“Mr. Stark, I can assure you that we’ve pushed all the boundaries we can with the area’s construction limitation,”

“Mhmm, and why do Tour Hekla designs have 15 meters on this proposal? I’m not some EDF wannabe. If I’m going to bring Stark Industries green energy and technology properly to the EU, I’m going to be making a statement.”

There was a pause. Pepper and the architecture team from Paris were unsure of what to do next. I wasn’t in any rush to break ground for the new HQ. In my opinion, we could still move it somewhere else, so a simple redesign should have been nothing. I say simple, but we probably wouldn’t have the new mockups until March or later based on how slow they were responding to my critique.

“Thank you for coming in today. I will email you all the notes from this meeting and we will be in touch within the next week.”

Pepper shook their hands and guided them out of the conference room. One lunch meeting, one R&D walkthrough, and then one final management meeting, that’s all I’ve got to make it through until it was home time. Well, time to get on the jet home, fly five hours, and then it was home time. 

Thinking of home time though, you should be calling me soon for a debrief. Final results wouldn't happen until late tonight, but you and Peter were going to go sightseeing when you got out of class to keep you distracted. Our call was mostly to check in on both sides. Me to make sure you weren't at an unreasonable level of stress and you to make sure I wasn't threatening people's lives for their stupidity. A win-win really. 

"Tony really you co-"

_ HERE I AM, ROCK YOU LIKE A HURRICANE _

_ HERE I AM, ROCK YOU LIKE A HURRICANE _

"Sorry, this is an important phone call," I smirked at my CEO.

"Jesus, just meet me and Happy down at the car."

She stomped off as Scorpion continued to play for a moment. Her sassy comments about my relationship with you could really go fuck themselves. 

"Hey Baby," I smiled, leaning back in my chair.

"Hi Daddy," you sighed quietly.

You sounded dejected and exhausted. It sounded more like you could use a night in rather than trapezing about the city until late. It's decided, next time I've got to take a business trip, I'd bring you with me. 

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"I just- I just-"

You paused, but I could hear how wet your voice sounded. Had you cried during the test? There was a sniffle.

"Why can't I understand basic math?"

"One calculus isn't 'basic', and two not everyone's mind works that way. I couldn't make art the way you do," I tried to be supportive, but neutral to not upset you further.

"I'm sure if you tried, you'd be great. Look at your suit, you clearly have an eye for design."

"It's true, I do, I had to tell a team of French architects their designs were boring just now."

I changed the subject, you hated crying in public. You were my crybaby in private only. 

"Why does it matter that they're French?"

"Makes it easier to get the planning done if you use a local team. Pep is insisting we have an EU headquarters, so I lost a bet and she got to pick the place."

"What would you have gotten if you won?"

You already sounded better, calmer.

"I'd have gotten out of a month of meetings," I moved you to speakerphone and pulled up the security systems on campus. "Where you at Babygirl?"

"On the sofas outside class, you gonna find me?"

"Taking all the fun outta bein' a creep," I grumbled but the smile on my face told another story. 

God was I so happy you didn't freak out too much when you found out I could do that, did do that on a regular basis. After the whole shit show of Thanksgiving, I felt like I had to tell you about it and you took it in strides. Freaked out a bit, mostly concerned that I would think you were 'super weird'. I mean, have you met Peter Parker?

There you sat, curled up as small as you could get, resting against the arm of a long grubby looking couch. My smile grew.

"Your hair looks nice today."

"You just like it when I braid it," you looked in the direction of the camera and smiled.

"What can I say, they are practically begging me to-"

"Freshie!"

Someone off-screen caught your attention and I saw you shrink. A guy, maybe someone in a class with you, walked over to the couch, and stood right in front of the camera line. What a dick.

"You have to promise me you'll start coming around for art nights in the new year."

UUGGGHHHHH THIS FUCKER.

"I'll think about it." 

Does he not see you were clearly on the phone? Does he know how rude he is being?

"You keep saying that, but I don't believe you."

Why does it sound like he is laughing at you? What the fuck was his deal?

"Sorry, I need to finish this important phone call."

"Text me, babes."

Am I having a stroke? Is that what this feeling is?

"Hello?"

"I'm still here."

You looked to your left and right before responding.

"That guy can really go fuck a cactus."

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

All I could think about on the elevator ride up the tower was marking up your beautiful skin, showing you exactly who you belonged to. I mean, you knew already, but the thought of spending the very early hours of the morning sucking and biting on your soft skin until little bruises formed was so tempting. Feeling you squirm and beg for more beneath me was exactly what I needed to wind down after that shitty long ass day. I wanted, no needed, you to my good girl. I needed someone to  _ listen _ to me without me having to be a dick and give me control.

The elevator doors opened on the communal floor and the smell of savory roast meat hit me. You must have made dinner for you and Peter then. The lack of pizza smell was honestly fucking nice for once. 

You hadn't sent me a picture of what you'd eaten. 

The sounds of Dolly Parton and men crying was not what I expected to come home to. I walked through the kitchen, noting the pile of cleaned pans drying on kitchen towels and the note on the fridge for me.  _ Left the best bits for you.  _ You doodled little hearts around the words and that… god that made me feel good. You could have left the scraps, and I'd still be over the moon about the note. I plucked it off the fridge and tucked it into my trouser pockets. 

On the sofa, with dirty dishes stacked on the coffee table, were you, Peter, Steven, and Barnes. All of you bawling your eyes out over some movie you were watching. I stood there for maybe a minute longer, the characters at some kind of drag bar, and the credits started to roll.

"What the fuck kind of sleepover is this?" Everyone's heads whipped to me.

"It's all Queens' fault," Steve was quick to wipe away the tears from his red face and clear his throat. 

Barnes less so, "I just have too many emotions right now. Men cry too Stark."

"Why are you crying though?"

"Because everybody deserves love, Mr. Stark."

The three men burst into tears again. I was losing my grip on reality now. What the fuck was going on?

"The movie was a coming of age story about accepting your body and that you're capable of anything," you explained. "It's called  _ Dumplin _ ."

_ Oh. _

_ Oh, good god. _

Peter and I were going to have words. Lots of them. About things that are and aren't okay to show someone recovering from a shed load of... of... shit.

Time to change the subject.

"Why are you two here?"

"They found us at Rockefeller when we were looking at the tree, which by the way was not as magic as I was told it would be," you sniffled, voice still a bit croaky from crying.

"It's not my fault," Peter wailed.

"Everything is your fault, Petey-Pie," Barnes chuckled and shoved the kid.

"Mr. Stark!" 

"Oh my god, just-" I pinched the bridge of my nose trying to not blow a fuse, "everyone go to their rooms."

While the boys filed out down the hall to their suites, you picked up the plates and took them to the dishwasher. I pulled the plate of food from the fridge and tossed it into the microwave. You sat down at the island, looking everywhere but at me.

Did you even realize you’d broken a rule? I watched the meatloaf and potatoes and vegetables spin and spin and spin contemplating how to handle that. There was a fine line about to be drawn. When we’d set up the rules, you were very adamant about rewards and punishment. I wasn’t surprised or resistant to the first. You had a serious praise kink and I was more than happy to facilitate that. You were my good girl after all, and I’d tell you that any chance I got. 

But you had this resolute idea that if you were “bad”, you had to be punished. To the point of punishing yourself, which was absolutely unacceptable, which I told you. Punishment was mine to dish out, when it was deserved.  _ Ding! _

And this cold reception you seemed set on giving me was only adding to your punishment. I pulled a fork from the drawer, setting my plate down so I could look at you.

"You eat dinner Baby?"

"Yeah, Daddy." 

You pulled the sleeves on your sweatshirt over your hands. I took a bite, even reheated the meatloaf practically melted in my mouth, the mashed potatoes were still creamy and vegetables hadn't turned to mush. This was making being stern difficult. 

"Why didn't you send me a picture?"

If there was a valid reason, I'd be understanding. Our rules weren't cast in stone, they were there to provide structure, not stress. They were a system set up to provide reward and praise more than anything else.

"I didn't want to," you shrugged.

"Why?"

You weren't looking me in the eye. I kept eating, waiting to see if you'd give me a real answer. There was no part of my mind that believed you would just break a rule because. You weren't a brat.

"I-" you gulped, fidgeting. "I just didn't."

I looked at you, fork dangling from my fingers. You were really sticking with that. You were really going to just lie to my face. I wasn't even upset about the picture at that point. You just lied to me. I ran my tongue over my teeth. If that's the way you wanna be, then I can accommodate that. I'd still get to mark you up at least.

"Go up to the penthouse, get ready for bed, and wait for me." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's all about the next part honestly. I'm already sweating. 
> 
> Also, I would recommend Dumplin if you haven't seen it and want a good cry.


End file.
